


my sweetest downfall

by prettylittledarkstar



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Reylo - Freeform, This is the best thing i've ever written, angst as fuck with a happy ending, darker vibes than usual, erotic fighting? is that what this is? yes, im trash, in fact insurance won’t cover it, kylo ‘i’m reylo garbage’ ren, mild TLJ spoilers, not even Deluxe Emperor Rensurance, oh no another ambiguous piece from yours truly, possessive ren but.....desperate??, rey the ‘kylo ren janitorial staff', six year old ben solo, the force is weird?, time skips and rewinds, when kylo and rey fight it’s more than just a small deductible for spacecraft insurance, you won’t find sex here but i’ve got basically the same thing: reylo lightsaber duel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-20 10:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13144812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettylittledarkstar/pseuds/prettylittledarkstar
Summary: Three years since the destruction of the Resistance and the death of Snoke. After a violent confrontation with Emperor Ren that leaves her mortally wounded, Rey confronts a six year old Ben Solo through a pain-induced force vision, linking two timelines together to save the future.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a1army](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a1army/gifts).



> merry christmas to all. this is a special gift for my honeybee a1army because she’s too good to me and she deserves so much more than i can provide. i know i say it all the time but i’m so grateful for you and the sweet friendship we’ve formed over the past months—you’re truly one in a million. here is my gift to you, someone who brightens my day tenfold with just one little message asking me how i am. joyeux noël, mon colibri! je t’aime! 
> 
> xx anya

_I'll follow thee and make a heaven from hell, and I'll die by your hand which I love so well. - A Midsummer Night's Dream_

“My offer still stands, Rey.” He flicked his crackling saber down and circled her. “What’s mine is yours. Always has been. We can rule the galaxy together.”

She eyed him back, watching his predatory movements as far as his hold on her would allow. A flicker of anticipation brewed as he made his approach, so close she could smell the sweat from his pores and feel the heat of his skin.

That face, so emotive as he searched hers. However menacing he tried to be, his eyes held such a softness that it was hard not to want him again.

She gritted her teeth, coiling back when he reached up to brush a gloved hand over her cheek. She hated those gloves, how he hid nearly every inch of himself like some shadow, depriving himself of physical contact with his surroundings. Usually, Rey was able to shut him out of a Force rendezvous, but this time was different. This time was for real.

He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, sucking in a sharp breath when she parted her lips and let one out. They moved as one heartbeat, always. Taking, giving. Breathing life in—sucking it out.

A long-dormant feeling flickered in her gut. That thrill, that spark of standing near him, for real. Of feeling conflicted at whether the wrenching twist in her gut was a carnal need or merely anxiousness in the presence of such a royal pain in her ass. The nerve of that man drove her up the walls of the _Falcon_. But oh, when she pictured them together as he imagined them: a future where he wore black and she wore white and the only malcontents in their life were the disagreements they faced over decisions made as galactic rulers. That—that was when it all slid into place.

 _Empress_ , he would breathe into her ear, and though a large part of her resisted his illustrious offer, a smaller percentage desired that life so strongly she feared he would sense it. Both of them knew they were capable of making it a reality.

But she knew the compromises she would make for that. A shadow as her lover. Loyal, passionate, devoted—but a shadow nonetheless. Friends in the grave. All that she loved—aside from him—would be gone. She would be painted and placed on a pedestal. Ren would give her anything she wanted in the most extravagant way. A life of luxury and waste and lies.

So she didn’t want that. She just wanted him back. Wanted back the man who took off his gloves to link pinkies with her in the secrecy of nighttime, back when Rey didn’t hold the responsibilities of a Resistance associated Force user and back when all either of them ever wanted was a comforting touch. But that man was gone, replaced by a hollowed carcass with a tar-black soul who now abused their bond to try siphoning intel from her.

Over the years, she took her training into her own hands, studying the ancient Jedi texts and teaching herself all the knowledge they offered. It felt like she was back on Jakku again, having to fend for herself once more. She learned that she had the ability to close off the bond when she didn’t want to see him, as did he. For an entire standard year, she never called upon him for anything and took their interactions in stride, sometimes trying to sway him back to the light. But as time passed, it became clear that he had made his choice. He sealed his fate when he fired on a transport holding his mother, Poe, and an entire fleet of new recruits that had just finished their training, thus obliterating the core of the Resistance.

For the next two years, Finn and Rose took up the remainder of the Resistance—a feeble 75—and tried to rebuild their numbers and regain resources, scouring planets for allied powers. For those two years, Rey shut him off, refusing to see him until nighttime, when their dreamscapes meshed together as one and she had no choice but to brush against the forefront of his mind. They found the means to ignore one another after indifference set in and the need for rest became stronger than the desire to drive the other mad.

Kylo let the crackling red blade slide back and he clipped his saber onto his belt. Removing his gloves with a precision gained from practice, he folded them neatly and then took no care in where they fell on the floor. He took a sauntering step behind her and she swallowed in anticipation. With a swift yet gentle motion, he brought her head to his chest anddrew in a sharp breath on impact. Rey tried to move, but he still held her in his vice-like Force grip. A hand clasped over her eyes and he showed her again the potential of their combined strength, and this time it felt so real, so _right_. 

A room materialized before her and along with it came two thrones of equal size, one of marble and one of obsidian. Kylo stood before her and in this headspace she had mobility, so she paced the floor in awe. The room stretched far and columns etched with proverbs of balance and power lined the sides, pushing up and then arching into a halfway transparisteel ceiling that tapered to black paneling, which then crawled back down to greet the obsidian throne. Kylo’s side was completely black with sleek, clean lines, and the two sides merged to form an ambiguous gray area. On what she assumed was her side—the light side—was entirely different than Kylo’s side. Plants grew from seemingly nothing in neat display, vines wrapped themselves around white columns, and rays of sunlight broke through to shine down on her side and illuminate all it had to offer.

She glanced down and saw her arm bindings and culottes had been replaced with flowing white robes that fluttered with her every movement. Her silken sleeves had slits to expose her arms and puffed out and gathered at the wrists, allowing air to flow and giving her the feeling of a noble queen. Kylo remained in black yet his fabrics were more refined, more regal and he wore a cape that dragged on the floor.

“We could have this and more. A home. A _family_.”

A flick of his hand and from around the corner came toddling a dark-haired little girl with the prettiest hazel eyes Rey had ever seen. She approached the two of them with a giddy smile and tugged on his robes, up on her tippy toes for him in an instant. Ren scooped her up and she wrapped her chubby arms around his neck, pressing her face to his and closing her eyes contentedly. Then she looked to Rey, seeming to have just noticed her. Her features brightened and she squirmed from Kylo’s arms, dropping to the ground and scrambling over to her. The girl barreled into Rey’s legs and gripped her so tightly she feared they’d tumble over.

“Mommy! I missed you!” she said, her voice muffled by the fabrics of Rey’s skirts, “Promise you’ll stay this time?”

A sense of guilt wrenched in her gut, knowing that somehow she had left this child just as her parents had done to her. All she ever wanted was a family, people she could rely on to love her. She couldn’t—wouldn’t subject her child to a life without that.

But then she screwed her eyes shut and shook her head, attempting to clear whatever thoughts Kylo’s paradise tried to cloud her mind with.

“You’re not real,” she said, staring down at the girl who still buried her face tightly into her legs. Rey looked up at Kylo. “This isn’t real, Ben. It never will be. Stop holding on.”

He worked his jaw and fumbled with his lips, an irritated tic she had become accustomed to by now. Slowly the edges of the fantasy faded and he removed his hand from her eyes, bringing her back to his quarters, back to a frozen state of being.

“I’m yours,” he murmured, “From the day you marked me, I’ve belonged to you.”

No one in the galaxy could romanticize morbidity like Kylo Ren.

“Tell me you’ll be mine.” He sounded almost desperate as he came to face her, but never had he been one to truly beg.

“It’s not possible,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone. “We were made for each other, maybe that much is true. Maybe the Force likes when we’re together. But we weren’t made to _stay_ together.“

No look of hurt could compare to the way his eyebrows pulled together and he gazed at her with wide eyes and a pouty mouth, almost pitiful enough to pluck her heartstrings, but she knew him like the back of her hand.

“And I would never give myself to you so easily,” she spat, wishing she could squash him like a bug just to rid herself of the guilt that racked her mind at wanting him.

He chuckled, masking his pain. “That’s my girl. Always one for the hunt. I have to agree, it’s more fun that way.”

“Might as well go straight for the kill,” she sighed, rolling her eyes at his insistence on _possessing_ her. Yet still something inside of her heated when he referred to her as ‘his.’ To feel wanted, to be desired and loved—that was all she ever wanted in life. But she’d rather him kill her like a coward than keep her frozen here any longer. At least she’d get to haunt the nuisance that he was.

“Oh no, my light. If you think I’ll show mercy on you after sneaking into my private quarters and interrupting my sleep just to take some unimpressive intel, you’ve got another thing coming. We’ve only just begun.”

He released her from his Force cage, and immediately she brought her quarterstaff to her outstretched hand and ignited it, both ends pushing out smooth, pale yellow blades.

“New saber?” he inquired as they circled each other, watching each other’s moves to find a weakness. She slowly backed into his common area, watching as he watched her and lessened their space every time she increased it.

“Maybe to you.” She would never dare admit that she failed to refurbish the one they had destroyed, but she also knew that a step to becoming a Jedi was building a lightsaber with kyber crystals that had called to her.

“We’ve a lot of catching up to do, then,” he purred, eyes dark and playful, as if this was merely foreplay. She shivered at the thought. Three years ago she would have shivered in pleasure and not cared whether he sensed it. Now she did it to hide how deep the roots of desire had grown within her. She wanted to hate him. But she couldn’t. The least he could do for her was to let her take some of her pent up rage out on him, especially after nearly backing her into a corner. Asshole.

So she lunged, trying to nick his shoulder but he knocked her saber away, his crossguard locked with one of her blades. She ducked when he swung with a closed fist and, keeping their sabers locked at their sides, barreled into him with as much force as she could muster. One of her feet sidestepped to block his ankle and he staggered back, tripping over a step-up and landing onto his back with a crash as he brought with him a table and its contents.

“I love it when you play rough,” he said through a heaving chest.

“Me too,” she smirked, and he pushed himself up with his elbows, his saber off and lax in his hand. She called it to her and it came eagerly, its energy excitable and ready for ignition. But Rey had other plans for the death-bringer, for she flung it so hard into the wall that it managed to wedge itself between two durasteel panels and remain as a fixture even after Ren tried calling it to his outstretched hand multiple times. She had taken advantage of his distraction and charged at him, finding herself standing above him.

He whipped his head to find her with her lightsaber poised near his throat, so close, so teasingly close.

“You little—“

With his saber now out of reach and the threat of impending doom now over his head, he grunted and called to him a training blade from a nearby rack.

Rey smirked. Of course Kylo would surround himself with weapons, even after considering the confidence he held in himself and his utter recklessness. Too many political enemies, she supposed. He learned that the hard way with Hux, who paid dearly for his efforts. But she gave little care for his business affairs. Her saber would slice right through the weapon and finally he’d be at her mercy. Surely he wasn’t giving her his best and she certainly wasn’t giving him any sort of professional fighting style to track.

It happened so quickly. One moment he was on the ground, and the next they stood across from each other, neither daring to strike first. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, testing out the waters.

Rey closed her eyes, reaching out and sensing his crackling force signature, searching for any changes in his demeanor. A few seconds early she caught his anticipated movements and planned to counteract them.

Just as she made to swing her saber down, he grabbed her wrist and thrust it back, throwing her off-balance and leaving her midsection exposed. One of the objects that had tumbled in their chaos found its way in the path of her stumbling feet and she tripped over it, right into his spear.

A gasp fell from her lips as a sharp pain blossomed and spread through her stomach, so devastatingly strong that her gaze unfocused and spots clouded her vision. Rey looked down to see the darkness of her blood pooling and spreading through the folds of her tunic.

“No,” he muttered, the arrogance of his earlier façade now gone and replaced with a dreadful panic. She felt her knees give out under her and he caught her in his arms, shoving aside debris from their chaos to rest her gently on the floor. Such an awkward position it was with a five foot spear inside of her, but he laid her on her side and held her in his arms.

“ND-2, get me a medic droid now,” he called, voice fragile and thick with emotion she couldn’t explain.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he breathed, frantically pushing tendrils of hair out of her face. Rey blinked up at him, her chest rising unevenly with each ragged breath she took. “I promise to make you good as new. Just keep your eyes on me, alright?”

His hands were warm against her cheeks and pulsing with an unrestrained panic that seeped into her and she was so, so cold. So cold without the blood that pooled from her stomach. Cold without her strength. Shivering. The pull of fatigue spread and plagued her bones and oh, how she just wanted to close her eyes and sleep.

With a heavy heart and eyelids that fought not to flutter closed, she reached up and held his face between her shaking hands.

“I’ll be with you forever, my darkness,” she whispered, sucking shallow breaths into her failing lungs.

She said it out of spite, knowing that death meant nothing to her, for the Force would bind her to him forever whether she died now or in fifty years. But she also said it because this man could kill her and damn it all, she still strived for his redemption and still felt the light within him, like a dull ember that urged for kindling—and dead or alive, she’d stoke the fire.

 

———————————————

 

Fog clouded her sight when she opened her eyes. She patted herself down, feeling for the spot where Kylo had pierced her stomach, but her clothes were intact, as was her skin beneath.

Was she dead?

She scrambled to her feet from the ground where she had lain and tried to run, tried to walk, anything, but she felt like she was trudging through a sinkhole on Jakku.

_Let me see him._

Her voice came out warped and echoey, as though she was underwater, and she couldn’t tell whether she had actually spoken or just merely thought the words. But through the fog appeared a figure crouching in a pool of blood. _Her_ blood, she realized after the image came into focus.

“Irreparable damage, sir,” came the voice of the droid he had summoned.

“Scan her again,” he mumbled

“Sir—“

“I said scan her again!”

Ren kneeled before her lifeless body, clutching her to his chest as tears streamed down his cheeks and onto her face, her blood staining his hands and everything he touched. It was unsettling to see her and Kylo from an outsider’s point of view. She realized that anyone watching their previous fight would think them absolutely mad, especially if witnessing this scene afterward; a scene where the wolf embraced the slaughtered lamb so tenderly one would think he loved her.

And maybe he did.

No—he _did_. He just had a rather demented way of showing it. Stupid, reckless man, going and killing her on accident. It was partially her fault as well, she supposed, but she felt it easier to blame the one wielding the weapon.

Was this death? Or what came after death, rather? Was she a spirit? A Force ghost?

 _No_ , the Force told her, _It is not your time yet. Go where you are sent. Find the answers_.

And go she did.


	2. Chapter 2

Voices echoed around her and she could not yet see where they came from. Slowly, her surroundings appeared from the ground up, materializing as if they were loading on a holo.

A hallway—no, a common room came to sight and Rey found herself in the middle of it, standing atop a table holding two mugs of steaming liquid.

 _Kriff_ , she thought as she scrambled to the ground, now noticing two figures standing right next to her. Apparently the Force gave little consideration to where she would land or if someone would catch her.

That someone being…Han? And General Leia? Much younger than she had ever seen them, no less.

But they seemed so occupied in their apparent bickering that they barely glanced her way as she backed away slowly from them. Clumsily, she knocked into a side table holding a precious-looking artifact, but when she scrambled to catch it, she noticed that neither the table nor the object had even budged.

Maybe they couldn’t see her at all. Still, she scurried to a corner of the room by the doorway and crouched near a piece of furniture just in case.

“...he’s so shy around his tutors. None of them even give him the chance he deserves. They quit when they learn about his abilities.”

“Well, he is _different_ —”

“His differences do not make him any less deserving of a proper education. Nor do they make him less of a human being! Less of _your_ son!” snapped the woman. Her tone edged on passionate insistence and rose with each syllable.

“Leia, I was just—“

“Just what? Trying to alienate him like everyone else does? Treat him like a prodigal son meant to be feared instead of loved?”

Han sighed and rubbed his face before looking at her again.

“People are still recovering from the Death Star. Recovering from Vader. Some only saw the dark side of the force and nothing of the light. They’re afraid of him.”

“Don’t you dare bring up that wretched scrap metal death machine and the fascist dictator who ruled over it while talking about our son! Just because he wields the Force so strongly at such a young age means nothing of how he will turn out.”

“There’s too much Vader in him.” 

“You’re wrong about him. Don’t mistake difference for darkness. Vader was everything he isn’t. It’s Anakin you see. When will you stop comparing him to the past and start seeing him for himself? He’s strong-willed and a sweet boy, with the most ferociously kind-hearted soul I’ve ever seen from such a little body. Maybe if you stayed longer than a week at a time you’d know that.”

“Maybe if you’d let me take him with me just once I’d know him better.”

She scoffed at him and did so once more when he continued, “He’s a quiet kid, Leia. Nothing like either of us, and I just don’t understand him. He barely leaves his desk. Let me take him with me next week. A quick run, and I’ll only be on Core planets. So he can see the damn scenery for himself instead of staring at holopads all day."

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, for the love of ewoks—“

“Under what circumstances do you think that I would allow you to take a six-year-old boy on your expedited, under-the-table business dealings for the sake of getting to know him better? He’s not a toy, and he certainly...”

Their voices blurred to mere background noise when Rey noticed a mop of dark curls peeking out from behind the cover of a thick curtain. Big, innocent brown eyes locked with hers for a split second and for a moment she panicked at the thought of him being able to see her. But the moment passed when he looked straight past to the hallway behind her, and then redirected his gaze to his parents who shamelessly fought in a frenzied whirl of accusations and half-hearted insults.

“You don’t love him.” Her voice was quiet and saturated with a defeat Rey had never heard from the General. Her heart sank. Could that even happen? Han, incapable of loving his own child?

“Leia, I never said that—“

“But you aren’t denying it, either.”

The curtain shifted and drew Rey’s attention to it, where the small boy stepped out and approached his parents. She saw that he wore a pair of blue pajamas and—Was it nighttime? Or early morning? Rey couldn’t tell, but either way, six-year-olds needed to be in bed when no gas giant dominated the sky. Tears welled up in his eyes and his lower lip trembled and he clutched a small tooka doll in his fist, as if willing that the thing turn into a real one and protect him.

“Dad? You don’t love me?” A voice, small and heartbroken and oh so sad interrupted the two parents, who both whipped their heads toward their son, who looked weak in the knees.

“Kid, of course I do.” He rushed over and knelt before the child, mussing his hair up affectionately, but he wanted none of it. He took a hesitant step back and looked between his parents.

“Why did Mom say that you didn’t? Why did you compare me to Vader?“

“That wasn’t—how long have you been in here, Ben?”

“Long enough.” Ben brushed past both of them and sprinted out the room, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Rey followed hurriedly to see him high tailing it down the hallway and waving his hand sloppily over a door to open it before stumbling in, sobs wracking his body. The door slid shut with a hostility she recognized, and she would have scoffed if not for the situation.

Han and Leia ran right past her—or through her, rather, and begged Ben to “open the door, little dove,” but he wouldn’t budge.

They knocked on the door and Han even tried toying with the wires on the access panel, but the boy was clever enough to hold the door with all the fibers of the Force he could gather within himself. Leia paced the hall in front of his room, wringing her hands and worrying away at her lip. Never had Rey seen this woman so distressed, not even in the face of death itself. She watched them desperately trying everything in their power to ease him out, but nothing worked. Eventually, after some time, they left him to calm down on his own, deciding to come back after he wasn’t using his powers so recklessly. It seemed a mistake in her mind, but what did she know about parenting?

From out of the corner of her eye, Rey saw his tooka doll laying sadly on its side. She walked up to it and sighed, hoping that she would be able to pick it up to at least put it by his door. She bent over and willed that she would be able to pick it up, and when her fingertips brushed over the worn fabric and lifted the flimsy thing into the air, she almost gave a victory shout.

A rather insane idea crossed her mind as she palmed the toy in her hand.

She shouldn’t alter the past. Not when she couldn’t guarantee the outcome for the future.

But in the room over sat an inconsolable child who cried over a twisted and untrue idea that no one loved him. Not even Kylo Ren deserved to feel so _unwanted_. And she had to remind herself that no, this _wasn’t_ Kylo Ren. This was Ben Solo, the boy who needed to go to sleep and needed only to worry about what he would eat for breakfast the next morning. That fact alone solidified her decision to at least try knocking on the door. She didn’t know if he would even hear. Had he seen her before, when they locked eyes across the hallway? There was one way to find out.

“Leave me alone! I never wanna see you again!” 

Her stomach flipped at the knowledge that she wasn’t merely a bystander in all of this. Hoping that the lilt of her voice would give him some idea that she certainly was not either one of his parents, Rey mustered up the courage to speak this time.

“Ben,” she said quietly, trying to keep her voice controlled but trustworthy.

“Who are you?”

Who was she? She didn’t know. She was nobody, and always had been. A scavenger. A pupil. Nothing. She was—

“A friend.”

A pause. Nothing.

“Can I come in?”

No response.

“I found something you might need.” Mimicking her actions as when she had touched Luke’s saber the first time, she sifted through the memory of the doll and found a name.

“Rory.”

Somehow the mention of Rory did the trick, for the door slid open and revealed a tired and soggy boy who quickly snatched the doll from her hand and ran to his bed, landing face-first into the mattress. She had half-expected him to slam the door in her face, but he didn’t, so she took a step inside and closed the door behind her.

What a scene it was, to find young Ben Solo sprawled face-down on his bed, limbs limp and sprawled out as his back rose and fell unevenly. How did she get here?

Rey perched on the bed and placed a tentative hand on his back. That was clearly the wrong thing to do, for he sprung up like a sand flea and stared at her with all the mistrust in the world.

The child rubbed his eyes furiously, as if somehow he could will the tears to stop by pushing them back in.

This was Kylo Ren? Jedi Killer? Supreme Leader? Slaughterer of worlds?

No. 

This was Ben Solo. A product of the celebration of a war ending. A little boy. Quite frankly, an accident. Not a total accident. But Rey knew that after the festivities were over, Han and Leia found themselves very much in love yet also inexplicably trapped in a marriage that neither could quite explain. As far as anticipated futures went, they both had separate ideas of what they wanted. A child fell neither in the plans of a Senator nor in the plans of a traveling man.

But a child they received.

Ben.

“Are you from the Force?”

“I suppose I am. It works in funny ways.”

“Are you here to take me to a family who cares about me?”

Her heart broke into pieces.

“I’m here…I’m here to show you that you have a family who cares for you. What you did to your parents back there wasn’t very nice. You shouldn’t bend the Force to your will. You have to let it flow through you, as if it is the blood in your veins."

“But I wasn’t...forcing the Force!” he sniffled, using his sleeve to wipe his red nose.

“Yes, you were. It was a mistake. But now that you’ve made the mistake, you can learn from it. Close your eyes,” she said. He obliged, shutting them so tightly he looked pained.

“Relax,” she chuckled, “Think about where you are. Listen to the sounds around you. Feel the energy that connects living things together.”

He took in a deep breath, expression smooth yet still soggy, as he sniffled every once in a while and wrinkled his nose; the fragile mind of a six year old was difficult to calm down, even after steering their minds away from thoughts of their distressing situation.

“What do you feel?" 

“I feel emotion. Energy. There’s so much of it. My mom and dad...they’re sad that they yelled at each other, but they feel confused. Like they don’t know what to do. They’re feeling that way about me. And my nanny, she feels like she doesn’t want to deal with me. Ever again. There’s Mother’s friend from work. She’s tired. She feels lonely and sleepy. And she knows that she has to stay here longer because of me. She knows _I’m_ the reason Mother left her meeting and she...d-doesn’t like me one bit.” His lip trembled and tears fell, leaving fresh trails to streak his rosy cheeks. 

“None of them love me like they used to. Now they just think of me for my connection to the Force.”

Her chest ached for this scrawny little boy with more power than he knew what to do with.

“Like you.” He turned his eyes to her. Something shifted in him, a subtle darkness clouding his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He clenched his fists beside him, the turmoil within him just barely contained. “You only care about my power.”

Rey quickly remedied that assumption.

“No, Ben. Not at all. I’m here to help you see that you are more than the Force. When you control it and let it become just one part of you, you leave room for other parts of you to grow. Like a big tree. You’re the trunk, and the branches are the different parts of who you are. The Force is just one branch, but it’s a little piece that makes up the tree of Ben.”

His young features softened as he considered this. He projected loudly and unintentionally that he liked the coherence of this idea, and he decided that she no longer was a threat. Then he deflated, relaxing his arms and letting the tears well up again.

“But why do I feel like my branches have been cut off? I feel like nobody ever listens to me and all they see is my power. Like there is no tree of Ben with a Force branch, just a tree of the Force with a Ben branch."

“That’s just not true. Would your mother still love you if you didn’t have the Force? Would she still give you hugs and kisses?”

“Well, yes, but—“

“No buts. Of course she would. And what about your father? He would still love you the same.” 

Ben looked at his lap and fiddled with his fingers. “I think he would love me better without it.”

“Why do you say that?”

He wrung his hands together nervously before tugging at a strand of his cropped hair. “He never treats me like Mom does. He’s always giving me weird looks and asking me how I feel, like I’m sick or something. Mom just has normal talks with me.”

Maker, did she want to sob for this sweet boy. She wanted to scoop him up and protect him so that he’d never turn into the monster that was Emperor Ren. But the Force did not place her in this timeline to baby him. If Rey knew anything about the Force, it was that it never did anything without the intention of teaching a lesson. And of course she would teach him a lesson. The trouble came down to what lesson to teach.

“Do you have the Force?” he said, lips still downturned and cheeks a sad blush.

“Well, it sent me here.”

“Mother says she has the Force too. But she only uses it to tell if I lie about breaking something or pouring my dinner into the maintenance chute. What a waste!”

Rey chuckled at his tear-soaked face and the true conflict in his eyes at such a trying situation as his mother’s ability. His expression darkened a little as he stared blankly in thought.

“And The Man. He has it.”

Rey swallowed thickly, a dread thicker than oil pooling in her gut. Though she had a hunch as to who The Man was, she took care in her next words.

“Who is he?”

“My friend. He talks to me whenever I feel sad and makes the voices stop.”

“The voices?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged uneasily, as if he said something he wasn’t supposed to, “They get nicer when I let him in.”

“Do they tell you to do things?”

“Sometimes. But I don’t have to listen. Sometimes the voices are mean and they don’t stop until I do what they say. The Man says that if I don’t do as I’m told, he’ll take me away from Mom and I’ll never see her again. But he’s a nice friend and he only hurt me one time." 

“Friends don’t hurt each other.” Gaining the knowledge that Snoke targeted Ben when he was just six years old made her sick to her stomach. It was no wonder that he turned to the dark side, especially after his uncle’s betrayal at the academy. But it also revealed to her that Ben was strong enough to endure _years_ of this psychological manipulation before truly giving in. In this light, most of Kylo’s attempts at affection now seemed less blunt and condescending and more like he genuinely never learned how to properly express his own feelings. Her heart ached at the notion because she understood now that neither did she, really, and they could have learned together. They just had to go and do what they did best: fight. And where did that land her? Dead, astral projecting through the Force on some journey of time-traveling self-discovery.

“I know, but he’s teaching me more about myself and my powers than anyone else. He _cares_ about me.”

“People don’t hurt the ones they care about on purpose, Ben.”

“What do you know about it?” he pouted, and she wanted to scold him for his mouthiness but then realized: what _did_ she know?

Even after admitting to herself that she cared for Kylo Ren more than just a little, she still continued to hurt him on purpose. And so did he. Everything they did to each other was calculated, purposeful. He killed her, for Force’s sake! (Did he? She still had no clue of where she floated on the spectrum of living.) 

“We learn from our mistakes, kid,” she said after a while.

She wanted to stop the darkness inside of him. She would trade an arm and a leg for him to have never even heard The Man’s name, much less to have known of his presence.

But she didn’t know how. Snoke was just a whisper, just a voice in his head at this point. She couldn’t stop that if she tried. So the next best thing was to give him her words.

“Want to know a secret?” she whispered, and he nodded eagerly, squirming in his seat with excitement. Rey knelt before him and remembered how she vowed never to do such a thing before Kylo Ren. But this was different. A matter of life and death. She took his small hands in hers and rubbed her thumbs in soothing circles into his skin. With every breath she took, she tried easing little bits of peace into the battlefield of his mind. 

Red-rimmed eyes full of youth and hopelessness met her own with a gaze wiser than his age, and she knew he felt her gentle pushes but knew not how to keep her out. Not that he necessarily wanted to.

“I think you are the brightest star in all of the galaxy,” she said honestly, “And when you shine, you light up entire cities with the fierceness of your soul. But there is sadness in you, Ben. One day it will feel as if all the stars have been snuffed out and you won’t feel bad about it, but what makes you special if you’re the only one? And the day that happens, remember one thing: I still love you, after all is said and done. Because loneliness is something that not even you deserve, no matter how much you think you do.”

He looked appreciative but confused, and Rey knew that he wouldn’t truly understand these words until later in life, but she hoped she said the right thing. She had no idea if this was merely a fever dream she was suffering from or if the Force had actually taken her to the past. Either way, she knew that he deserved to hear it and she needed to say it.

Did she want to change the future? No. And hopefully she wouldn’t by altering the past. But Ben Solo needed to know that he wasn’t a waste of space, wasn’t just a pawn in someone else’s game.

Where words had no place, hugs offered the best advice. So she took him into her arms and held him there, whereupon he embraced her tightly, his small arms holding on with everything they had. He rested his head on her shoulder and she felt the way his ribs expanded in shaky sobs.

“You are deserving of love, Ben. The darkness does not define you.” She pulled back and grabbed his face, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. The lines of her reality blurred and the colors around her smudged like an abstract vision.

“I have to leave now. But I’ll be with you in the Force, always.”

He faded away and left her alone in a lofty nothingness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote most of this chapter while listening to alt-J’s This Is All Yours, if that has any relevance. (fellow reylo writers, i recommend this album if listening and writing is your style) enjoy ~ xx anya

_Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same._

A rush of blurred memories, most of them the same but some different, some making more sense than they did before.

 

_“Don’t be afraid; I feel it too.”_

 

_“It is you.”_

 

_“You’re not alone.” “Neither are you.”_

 

 _“Ben, please don’t do this. Please don’t go this way._ ” _“Stop holding on!”_

 

_“Wouldn’t you rather be queen of hell than a slave of heaven?” “I don’t want any of it. I want you.”_

 

_“My sweet shadow. Have you come to haunt me again?” “I’m here for you, Ben.”_

 

And finally she came to the place she was before. Saber pointed at his throat, but now he looked more subdued than he did before. Breathless and unbelieving, she looked down at her stomach and felt no blood, no weapon, no pain. Then she surveyed her surroundings. He hadn’t grabbed the weapon from the rack yet, and instead laid at her mercy.

“Do you remember?” she whispered, looking at him as though they shared a secret.

“What?” He sounded incredulous, chest heaving. Rey shut off her saber and dropped down to sit on his chest, pinning his arms beneath her knees.

“Do you remember me?” she asked, leaning in close to his face as if that would jog his memory. But that only confused him further.

“Did you hit your head?” 

“The night you cried. I was there, and The Man, the tooka doll, your father—“

He gritted his teeth at the mention of Han. “Of course I do.”

“Do you remember a life before that? One where I died at your hand?”

“The Force has given us thousands of lifetimes together, Rey. How could I remember _one_ when there are hundreds that ended that way?”

This was news to her. He seemed to sense that, for he rolled his eyes and smacked her thigh, silently asking for her to get the hell off. He could easily shove her off with a Force push, but as long as he was gentle, she would remain unrelenting.

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? _You_ asked about another life. And just as I killed you in one, you did the same in another.”

It was now Rey’s turn to be confused. She shook her head slowly, her face contorting to an expression of disbelief. He huffed at her.

“We spent days discussing this, years ago. Are you dense?”

Crossing her arms, she sent a ripple of a threat to him across their bond, promising to draw her lightsaber if he didn’t remain civil. If he felt it, he didn’t let her know.

“Do you need me to enlighten you again?”

Obviously he did, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of telling him. So she remained silent, his hard gaze piercing through her.

“I could enlighten you in...other ways as well,” he purred, eyes darker than before as he gripped her ankles and rubbed circles there, that being the only skin of hers he could reach.

She rolled her eyes and wished she could pretend she wasn’t so affected by his uncouth ways. Wishing she didn’t want him to press his hot mouth on her neck and put his fingers inside of her, taking her slowly, violently, any way she wished, for he was hers and she was his and—

“Kriff’s sake. Just tell me about the Force forcing us together before I kick you into another timeline.”

“You never liked my way of explaining it. But if you’ve forgotten...,” he prefaced, swallowing harshly after noting her impatience, “You have a heart of bright white light, but all your life you’ve been shrouded in darkness. I’m quite the opposite. We fit like broken pieces, we flow like water—but we collide worse than two planets in a blackhole. Just as I am your weakness, you are mine. But our strength comes in the way we balance each other out. Together, we have the potential for entire systems to bow before us. It could shatter the foundation of corruption, and bring a new and peaceful order. For millions of centuries, the Force has sought to maintain itself through balance. It determined that the only remedy was to create two bonded Force-sensitives, either one with balancing amounts of light and dark. There is balance when we find each other, and until then there is only chaos. We only maintain balance within the Force if we maintain peace between ourselves. When we find it in ourselves to reach the breaking point, it will separate us. In the forest all those years ago. The ground didn’t chasm itself merely because the planet was unstable. You nearly killed me. So it stopped you.”

 _I hated you_ , she thought, remembering her rage at the monster who laid before her, remembering how she thought that killing him would solve every problem she knew of. But she hadn’t known about Snoke, or the power he possessed, or any of it.

He bristled at her projected thoughts and continued, and Rey got a brief impression that he had plenty to say about that, but wouldn’t say it.

“In the throne room, Skywalker’s saber. The Force showed us we are equals and that we—and it—would suffer if we harmed each other any more.”

“That doesn’t explain why I was able to visit you as a boy and come back here,” she pushed, annoyed that he monologued about _belonging_ and _fate_ of all things.

“Time is a spectrum. There are things we can see, and others we cannot. This means there are many versions of this moment, all with an uncountable number of outcomes.And that doesn’t necessarily mean they all happen at the same time. In the past, the Force has made it possible for someone jump to a parallel version of a lifetime. What you did on one timeline may have bled into another to set something straight. Things like that do happen.”

He seemed rather indifferent to the whole thing. But it was unsettling to think there could be hundreds, possibly thousands of versions of her and Kylo, all enduring different levels of the same situation. Somehow that unnerved her more than anything.

He continued in a far-off sort of tone, one full of reluctant resolve.

“You don’t belong in the darkness. I don’t belong in the light.”

“Then what’s the point of a battle if it has no end? Why are we fighting a fickle war?”

“Balance.”

“To hell with balance. I’d never be the powerful leader you’d want me to be. And never would you waste your energy fighting for a cause you didn’t believe in, just for me. We don’t match. Nothing about us works. Just as you’d take me as I am, I’d do the same for you. But when we put power and meaning behind it, our ideas of who we want each other to be become quite skewed. I know that I can’t take you from your darkness and put you in the light. That would be asking for trouble. But I don’t want you to be miserable in the shadows.”

“Is that why you said you loved me once? Why you told me that no matter what I did, you’d still tether your heart to mine?”

His tone was urgent, pushing boundaries for the sake of whatever point he was trying to make. If she had gazed earnestly into his eyes before, now she looked away quicker than ever, embarrassed that he would put into words such an unspoken thing.

“I said those things because that scared boy deserved to hear them.”

“Not because they were true?”

“Of course they were true, Ben!”

“Then say it,” he breathed, eyes searching. Rey took a shaky breath and closed her eyes, forcing herself to push a lump down her throat.

But he urged her, “Say it.”

“I can’t.”

She jumped when Kylo pounded his fist against the floor, drawing in a raging breath and growling it out. His voice was low and just barely contained when he gritted out, “Why? _Why?_ You said it to me 26 years ago but you can’t say it now? Have you changed your mind?”

When she shook her head no, hot tears fell from her eyes and onto his cheek.

“Quit crying and look at me,” he snapped as another pathetic drop hit his scar, but then his features softened once more and he went back to rubbing sweet circles into her skin.

His voice was quiet now, as if he barely wanted to hear himself, “I spent my entire life under the impression that loneliness was merely a natural occurrence—until I realized that I had never known a love like yours. You’re as fickle as a bird, deadly girl, yet your feelings for me are potent and constant. Why resist it? Why not take the path that leads you to me? Stop holding back—“

“Stupid, stupid man,” she shook her head, wanting to laugh at his obliviousness, “I’m not resisting anything—I’m not holding back! All my life, the only thing I’ve ever wanted was to belong. I’ve never fit in _anywhere_. Not on Jakku, not with Luke, not with the Resistance, not even completely with the light. But then I found you. The real you. I found you and I thought wow, he knows what it’s like to never fit in—maybe we can be outcasts together. We’ll have our own anywhere to fit in. Our own clubhouse with our own rules, where I’ll love you if you’ll love me. But you don’t even have it in you to say it back!”

She slammed her palms on the floor beside his head and then stopped before she could put much force behind it; she would _not_ be like him. She hunched in on herself and balled her hands where the rested. With a shaky sigh, she dared to look at his face.

Trembling lips and the widest, goldenest eyes she had ever seen. Dark hair that pooled around his head and rested on the floor, only slightly damp with sweat. Soft. Beautiful. Corrupted—but not fully. His scar— _her_ scar—was nothing but a thin white line that bisected his right cheek and licked his brow.

Surely if he could look that vulnerable, he could be vulnerable with her.

“Just tell me, Ben. Please.” _I need to hear it._ She didn’t quite know if he heard her last thought, but she felt his shuddering breath when she traced a trembling finger over his scar. His eyes fluttered shut as he soaked in the warmth of her touch, the way it soothed any burning fire within him.

The two most powerful beings in the galaxy also happened to be the loneliest. The most starved of love, of affection. And if not for her to keep him in line, he would have pulled from the emptiness and wreaked havoc amongst the galaxy long ago. That was his weakness—the way the emptiness ate at him so much he withdrew into a shadow. Of course, her weakness lied within the facets of holding on. Holding on to an idea of a family that never existed; holding on to grief for things out of her control; holding on to Luke Skywalker, the General, Han, the people who left her. Never able to presently enjoy things. He kept her in line by forcing her to let go of things that held her back.

And she supposed he was right. She supposed that yes, they balanced each other out quite well. So well, in fact, that when she thought about a life without him, her heart ached more than she’d ever care to admit.

“You slaughtered my friends, destroyed everything I’ve ever loved. You have proved yourself to be the worst companion to share the most intimate parts of myself with. And the most incredible thing is that despite it all, never once have I hated you. Not really. Because for as much of an absolute pain in the ass that you are, you’ve always been there for me. Never forced me into joining you. Pushed me, maybe. But never forced me. You’ve given me all the time that I’d never have the patience to give. And when I was lonely, only you understood. Because you’ve felt that hollowness in your chest like I have. Please, Ben,” she begged, scooting to his stomach and releasing his arms so she could hunch over and press her forehead to his.

Immediately he brought his hands to her sides, pushing beneath her tunic to brush his fingertips against her ribs. Nothing trying, just affectionate. And oh, how she loved it. She couldn’t resist his lingering touch even if she wanted to. With a push of her hips, she slid down until her head laid neatly against his chest. There, she could hear the sound of his heart, the lulling _thump thump_ and the ever-present thrum of the Force that flowed within him, within her.

“Please…” she whispered, a fresh wave of tears threatening her cheeks, “I’ve never felt so alone in my life.”

For Rey, tears only came inconveniently, especially when her emotions tipped over and spilled like oil on cloth—tainting everything it touched, consuming. She loved him. But she couldn’t live with herself if he didn’t love her back. All her life she spent giving, pouring herself into others, never receiving, and the only thing she ever wanted was—

“I love you. Truly. It would be in my best interest not to go into too much detail, as the only things you would find are the disturbing lengths I would go for you.”

—someone to give back.

Her heart lifted and she let her arms hang around him in a lazy, half-embrace, feeling quite a need to let herself melt into him as much as possible. A subdued smile graced her lips and a lackluster tear trickled from the corner of her eye and onto the fabric of his tunic.

“How deeply?” she whispered as he brushed a hand over her hair, toying with the single knot she kept in it these days.

The smile in his voice was unmistakeable when he breathed back, “Deeper than the endless skies of uncharted space.”

“How much? How much do you love me?”

He moved his hand down to brush over her back, feeling along the ridges of her spine. The intimacy of their interaction did not match their setting in the slightest. But that was them: unpredictable, without sense, but with purpose.

“More than there are stars in the galaxy, stardust.”

“How long will you love me?” She needed him to tell her, needed to feel the way it lifted the heaviness of her heart with each syllable.

“Longer than the universe will exist.”

“How do you take me?” she rasped, peeking up at him through her lashes, making sure he knew her intentions through the Force.

“With greed and passion, hungrier than the wildest of beasts—if you’ll allow it.”

That made her lips twitch upward. His untamed need to claim and mark things as his own—she understood; a glance at his scar told her she was not unlike him in that sense.

“And how do you know that I feel the same?”

“Your soul whispers to mine every night. It has for years.”

Their words rang truer to a vow exchange than any actual vow exchange that either had witnessed. It felt real, wholesome, good.

“I love you, Ben. And I…it’s...” She trailed off, not really sure of where she waned to go with that.

“Talk to me, Rey,” he said, firmly yet kindly grasping her chin so she looked up at him. 

“I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m so sick of it,” she conceded, eyes failing to meet his intense gaze.

“Let’s go away then.”

“Anywhere we want,” she nodded in agreement, relieved that he knew what she wanted without her having to say it. “Let the galaxy figure shit out for itself for once. We don’t have the answers for anyone but ourselves. Leave it all behind. I know you don’t like all the power you have here, I can feel it. There’s too much of it. Let’s use _our_ power for something small.”

“Don’t you think that’s rather selfish for a self-proclaimed Jedi?” He smirked, and she wanted to deck him.

"I’m not a Jedi,” she said defensively, sitting up to stare him down, “and I’m not being selfish. I’m taking back what belongs to us.”

Their lives, their sanity—she was reclaiming it today.

“Lovely. Now, for as much as I’d love for you to straddle me, I think it would be best for us to go.”

—————

They left after that, but not after Kylo convinced a number of droids he was taking a vacation, insisting they pack far too many black clothes for Rey’s taste. Somehow he managed to call a tailor droid and its human counterpart up to his quarters to have her measured for some black monstrosity, but Rey couldn’t stand to match him and nearly shoved the two out of the room. She nearly whacked Kylo upside the head when he insisted humorously to the frightened pair to “make it, she’ll only bite if she has to.” They then hurriedly took her measurements and tripped out of the room, promising to be but ten minutes.

Multiple times she told him they were wasting precious time for a discrete escape, but Kylo Ren, being the Skywalker man he was, had to make a show of his exit wherever he went. Some package had arrived at his quarters with a tag reading, “For the lady,” and Rey barely glanced at it before hauling as much of his shit into her arms as she could and hightailing it to the hangar where she had haphazardly parked the Falcon. How that ship still proved reliable, she had no clue. But she wouldn’t question its reliability when the possibility of jinxing herself was always at the back of her mind. Maker knows she’s had bad enough luck with men. A glance at Kylo told her as much.

It came to mind now that the troopers on duty had paid barely any attention to her when she first arrived, and after dumbly approaching one and almost begging for a fight, they just shrugged and told her that they were under strict orders not to harm her in any way should she happen to fatefully land on his ship. Hopefully now they wouldn’t find it suspicious that she was practically sprinting towards the Falcon with Kylo in tow.

She felt a ripple through their connection as he halted in his tracks to stare at the ship.

“ _That_ piece of junk?”

“That piece of junk is my home now, thank you. It’s about to be yours as well.”

He went through many expressions of disgust but said nothing more as he stepped aboard the ship, a black cape fluttering behind him. She rolled her eyes and unceremoniously dropped his things on the floor and scrambled to the pilot’s seat, flipping switches and preparing the ship for takeoff.

Maybe it wasn’t the ideal thing to do, but it felt right to her. As long as they had each other, they could handle whatever came their way. And this was far better than the alternative she had fought so hard to change.

“Where to?” he asked, shrugging off his cape rather dramatically before sliding into the copilot’s seat and taking to the controls with a skill that came from years in his past.

“You’re technically a prince on Naboo, are you not?”

“Don’t even start.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just realized this chapter was basically a bunch of dialogue...oops. anyways, if you liked it, maybe drop a kudos or a comment? i love all of you, and once again, merry christmas to a1army, my bb. i love you sweetness <3   
> xx anya


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